


Romance at the Hanami: Fireworks and Demons

by junko



Series: the distance between us [18]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have been the perfect end to a fantastic holiday weekend with Byakuya at the Cherry Blossom Festival.  If only Renji hadn't decided to reveal his true feelings....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance at the Hanami: Fireworks and Demons

**Author's Note:**

> The slash has been intentionally reversed. If you don't like Renji on top, this isn't for you.
> 
> Warning: much, much angst, rough sex, and boys being stupid with each other's hearts.
> 
> It will get better, but I decided to go here because I think Byakuya needs to hear from Renji that he can't just have things the way they have been. Renji cares too much to keep getting used.

Though they’d been out-maneuvered by one of the few women that out-ranked Byakuya, it seemed to Renji as though the captain still had a plan of attack:

_Be boring._

It had been over a half-hour and Byakuya had yet to say anything more than what was absolutely necessary to be polite. However, the princess (or whatever rank she held in the royal family) was not quite so easily defeated. She was currently attempting to provoke a response from Byakuya by going on at great length about the virtues of female companionship and how amazingly his life would be improved if only he took a new wife.

Renji was impressed how Byakuya managed to hardly even twitch when the princess called him by his first name, without even a –san. Renji couldn’t help but exchange an amused look with the princess’s bodyguard.

The bodyguard was a serious woman with steel gray hair shorn close to her head. Even in her relaxed pose, sitting next to him on the blanket with her legs crossed like a man’s, Renji could sense she was a force to be reckoned with. He could feel captain-level reistsu roiling under her serene pose. Her uniform was even scarier than she was; he’d never seen anyone from the Zero Division before, much less just casually sharing a picnic with them.

She leaned into Renji and whispered, “Your man is good. Can he withstand tears?”

“Cold as ice,” Renji returned. “Trust me. A river of tears wouldn’t faze him.”

“A tantrum?”

Renji shook his head. “That’d be the excuse he’d need to walk away.”

“Damn,” she whistled lowly, impressed. She sat back with a resigned expression.

Renji went back to trying to tune out the princess’s constant stream of inane conversation. He was a lot less practiced at it than Byakuya, so he had to distract himself by looking around.

Luckily, with the sun set, the promenade had become a glorious display. Lanterns dripped from cherry tree branches, casting light up into the fluffy pink-white blossoms. Illuminated from the underside like that, they looked a bit like clouds brought to earth.

Meanwhile, the princess was beginning to pout.

It wouldn’t be long now.

#

Sensing imminent defeat, the bodyguard rescued her princess from utter humiliation by ‘reminding’ her highness of some clearly-fabricated appointment elsewhere. They bowed deeply to let the lady take her leave.

“I should have offered a bet,” Renji muttered when they came back up. “I knew you’d win that one.”

Byakuya pinched the space between his eyes. “My head hunts.”

Renji was surprised to hear genuine exhaustion the captain’s voice. “It was as close as all that?”

“Let’s make a tactical retreat. I can’t withstand another ambush.”

#

Servants came out of nowhere to collect their things. Ironically, the help would likely make it back to the guest quarters before they would, considering that as soon as he was up and moving, Byakuya was seen as approachable again. They could hardly go three steps without someone greeting him.

However, the people who stopped Byakuya seemed harmless. None of them held him back for very long as they were all anxious to find a good spot to watch the fireworks. The captain was currently talking with a young family. Their two small children ran up to peer curiously at Renji.

“Are you a real shinigami?” asked the elder boy suspiciously.

“Of course,” he said with a little laugh.

“You ever go to the human world?” he wanted to know.

“Once or twice.”

The younger sister, however, was focused on his zanpaktō with an intensity that made Renji wonder if he’d be seeing her in the Court Guard years from now. She pointed to the sword, “What’s its name?”

Renji knelt down to look her in the eye. If he didn’t think her parents would freak out, he was tempted to pull Zabimaru from his hip to let her take a good look at him. “What makes you think our swords have names?”

“They must,” she said with a frown that crumpled her tiny face. “Everything that talks has a name.”

He nodded, patting the hilt of his zanpaktō. “This is my Zabimaru.” He gestured with a nod to where Byakuya stood illuminated in the lantern light, like a ghost in white. “His is Senbonzakura.”

She laughed delightedly, clapping her hands, “Senbonzakura at Sakura Season!” With that she ran off to tug at her father’s sleeve, apparently desperate to share the joke.

“You shouldn’t encourage her,” the elder brother said, glumly watching his sister make a happy dance around a confused and startled Byakuya. As he walked back to his family, the boy said over his shoulder, “She’s already engaged to be married.”

Renji stood up slowly, frowning. She was such a joyful, tiny thing, and already so remarkably in tune with reistsu. It didn’t seem right that her future was predetermined. But then, he reminded himself, fate was a funny thing. There was no predicting its twists and turns.

As the family said their goodbyes, the little girl turned to wave brightly to Renji. He smiled and waved back.

Besides, if there was one thing Renji knew for certain, it was that with enough willpower, you could make _your own_ damn destiny.

#

“I wish we were home,” Byakuya sighed when they finally closed the doors to the guest quarters. “What I want more than anything is a long hot soak.”

“You can’t tell me that the Spirit King doesn’t have a hot springs as nice as the Kuchikis’,” Renji laughed.

“Of course he does,” Byakuya said. “Better. But you would never be allowed.”

“Me?” _Oh._ Byakuya had wanted them to go together? That _would_ be nice. A slow, sly smile curled his lip. “I’m no Stealth Force operative, but I can scale a wall. With everyone out enjoying the fireworks, there might not even be an attendant.”

“Are you suggesting we break into the private baths of the Spirit King?”

“Not you. Me.”

“Oh, well then,” Byakuya said dryly. “I’ll get my things.”

#

It was disappointingly easy to sneak into the sentō. There was no wall to climb, no attendant to dodge, though Byakuya did have to turn his back while Renji jiggled the lock.

“I don’t think I want to know where you picked up this particular skill,” Byakuya said, turning around once the door swung open.

 _Yeah, you really don’t_ , Renji thought, especially since the person who taught him how to do it was Rukia.

The interior of the bathhouse was dark, though a bit of moon and ambient light from the festival filtered in through high windows. As they stepped into the entrance area and slipped their sandals into the cubbyholes, Byakuya said thoughtfully, “I’m not sure I’ve ever come in through the front doors before.”

“Well,” Renji said acting the part of tour guide and pointing to a rectangular raised platform, “Normally there’s an attendant there, and the boys use the blue door.”

“Which is also helpfully labeled ‘men,’” Byakuya noted sarcastically, as they moved into the changing room.

“Yeah, but not everyone going through the front can read,” Renji said, though quickly added, “Oh. Though I suppose they all do here, eh?”

“Yes, it’s certain everyone living in the Imperial Palace can read kanji, no doubt hiragana and katakana, as well.” As they found baskets for their clothes, Byakuya stopped for a moment and seemed to be considering something. Finally, he asked, “Renji, when did you learn?”

“Oh, uh…” He was glad there was darkness to hide his slight blush, “Academy.”

Byakuya had no comment, though Renji could guess that he was probably at least a little surprised. A lot of the districts had established schools, run by temples, but _Inuzuri_ was too fucking far out and poor to be one of them. When he and Rukia came to Academy, they didn’t even have shoes, much less any kind of formal education. It was one of the great ironies of his Academy career, spending mornings in advanced classes and evenings in rudimentary ones—and all the time praying that no one noticed him struggling with some of the basics.

Of course, in the Eleventh, his ability to read and write was both mercilessly mocked and secretly in high demand. In fact, he’d done the nearly all paperwork there ever since earning his seat and Tetsuzaemon Iba promoted out. It wasn’t like Zaraki had bothered. His seal was just the number Eleven since he didn’t even have a name. The lieutenant was still a child. Renji was pretty sure someone was teaching Yachiru, but, you know, critical things like toilet paper couldn’t exactly wait on her education… or her attention. Meanwhile, Ikkaku had neither the ability nor the interest. Surprisingly, Yumichika could read some, but had asked Renji to teach him to write--though he’d insisted on such complete secrecy that, at one point, Ikkaku nearly accused them of having an affair.

The truth was Renji’d been doing much of the work of an adjutant for decades. Not that he really minded, he was happy to help out, but it was one of the reasons that Byakuya’s earlier talk about how he’d squandered his time in the Eleventh pissed him off so much. Not only had he intensively trained in fighting, he’d kept the boys in bandages.

“Ah,” Byakuya said lightly, breaking Renji’s reverie. Coming up beside him, he placed his basket of clothes on the shelf. “Thinking again, I see.”

Damn it all. Renji’d been so deep in thought he’d missed the chance to surreptitiously admire his captain while he undressed. Meanwhile, he’d managed to wad his own shihakushô into a tight ball. As usual, the only thing he’d taken care of automatically was Zabimaru, which was propped carefully against the wall next to Senbonzakura.

With a little shake of his head, Renji tossed the uniform into a basket.

“Come,” Byakuya took his hand. “It seems we could both use a chance to relax.”

#

Hand in hand, they snuck into the main bath. Renji couldn’t help but smile, imaging what a sight they must make, on tiptoe, completely nude.

He never grew tired of seeing Byakuya like this, so completely stripped of his usual defenses with the captain’s haori and the kenseikan removed. He looked years younger and almost… vulnerable.

_Almost._

Except, even in the semi-darkness, it was impossible not to notice the strength in those powerful, taut muscles or the gracefulness of trim waist and slender, long bones. Byakuya was so much like Senbonzakura -- beautiful beyond reason, but deadly as sin.

They stopped at the faucets, turning them on. Byakuya had remembered to bring soap, and he offered it to Renji now. “Would you?”

Would he? Would he be willing to run his hands all over that perfect body, slick with water? Would he take advantage of this rare opportunity to actually be allowed touch Byakuya?

“Oh, yeah, I would,” Renji managed huskily. He rubbed the soap between his hands to get it foaming. All the time, Byakuya waited patiently, his eyes down. Water darkened already midnight hair. Rivulets made enticing paths downward over sculpted arms and chest.

Renji stepped in front of the flow of the faucet, blocking it a little with his back. His hands, soapy now, trembled slightly as he reached for the captain’s shoulders.

_Ah, such skin! Like polished alabaster._

Renji felt self-conscious of every rough callous on his palms, but if Byakuya minded he probably shouldn’t move that way—his hips shifting seductively to press into Renji’s grip.

The distant boom of fireworks echoed the thudding of Renji’s heart.

“Your gentleness is maddening, Renji.”

Renji let out a little snort of a laugh. “Maybe I like it like this, seeing you begging for more,” he said, though he gave Byakuya’s thigh a rougher, playful squeeze.

A soft moan escaped Byakuya’s lips. “You’re a devil.”

“You’re just now figuring that out? Kind of slow for a captain, aren’t you?” Renji teased, leaning in a few inches to capture Byakuya’s lips in a kiss.

Byakuya always tasted so good. Residue chili pepper heated their lips. Despite his dislike for spice, Renji hungered for more. His hands slipped around Byakuya’s waist, pulling him closer; his tongue darted deep into Byakuya’s mouth.

Byakuya’s fingers slid up Renji’s arms to settle against shoulders. Byakuya broke from their kiss and dipped his head to nuzzle Renji’s neck. Soft kisses were interspersed with nips and bites. Tongue lapped along favorite spots—the line of tattoo, the hollow of collarbone.

Renji could get lost in this exquisite feeling, their bodies so close, touching in such tantalizing places. His senses reeled with the tenderness of mouth, jutting hipbone, and slick, wet skin. Slowly, his hands roamed over Byakuya’s back, exploring every contour. Renji could have stayed like this forever -- on the brink of nothing, of everything.

But the captain always seemed to want something wilder from him, something more…aggressive.

At least, this time, it didn’t surprise Renji to feel Byakuya’s fingers dig deeply into his flesh, demanding. A hard shove knocked the air from his lungs as his back slapped hard against the wall. Reistsu thrummed between their bodies, vibrating against skin, like the deep beat of a bass drum.

Byakuya’s hand found its way between his legs. Fingers curled skillfully around Renji’s cock, tugging him into further arousal. He gasped for breath, skin flushing despite the cool water that sluiced over them. He had to grab desperately at Byakuya’s waist to keep his knees from buckling.

So utterly overwhelmed by ecstasy, Renji momentarily forgot that, for once, he wasn’t restrained. He needed to press the advantage for as long as the captain let him have it. Catching his breath, he surged forward with a growl. Grabbing Byakuya by the back of the neck, he drove them into the opposite wall. The captain’s eyes opened in surprise, and, it seemed to Renji, delight.

“Ah,” Byakuya’s breath tickled his ear. “Have I awoken the demon?”

“You’d like that.” Renji’s smile was toothy and sharp. If he didn’t know Byakuya liked the rough stuff, he could never have teased: “Careful what you wish for, Captain. Unleashing an _Inuzuri_ dog could end with you as my bitch.”

It was satisfying to see a bit of color drain from Byakuya’s face at his crudeness, especially given how quickly other parts of the captain’s body responded. But, this wasn’t a game Renji could win if Byakuya didn’t want to play. A simple kidō spell and a blast of reistsu and Renji could be driven to his knees.

But, until that happened, he’d take what he could.

He ran a hand over Byakuya’s ass. Then, he grabbing his leg and hauled up so that the captain hung over his shoulder by his knees. Byakuya had to throw his arms around Renji’s neck to keep from losing his balance.

“What are you…?”

“I’m going to fuck you hard up against this wall,” Renji snarled, seizing Byakuya’s other leg. He grunted a bit as he took on the captain’s entire weight, but he was strong enough to hold them, especially with the wall’s support. “If this is who you think I am, then this is what you get.”

#

It was rough and probably more than a little painful, but ultimately satisfying--at least physically—for them both. Renji felt guilty as he cradled Byakuya in his arms, while they slid, spent, to the wet, tiled floor. He softly stroked the captain’s hair, tucking an inky strand behind an ear, wishing that Byakuya would look at him.

He supposed he should be grateful that he could read the exhausted satisfaction in slightly open lips and shallow breathing. Sweat gleamed on Byakuya’s skin and long, dark eyelashes trembled slightly.

What would it be like to make love to this man? Instead of always ending up … fucking?

Renji kissed Byakuya’s eyelid softly, by way of an apology. Not that he thought Byakuya wanted one. Given the things he’d gasped into Renji’s shoulder, Byakuya had clearly desired something even darker, more brutal.

It was a side of Byakuya that, no matter how many times it surfaced, always surprised and… disturbed Renji. Was the captain like this with him because of the class difference between them, because Renji was from Inuzuri, or because he was Byakuya’s subordinate? Was it the tattoos that made Byakuya assume Renji was crude and violent? Did he expect nothing tender to pass between them because they were both men?

Maybe this was just Byakuya’s thing.

But it was impossible to imagine the captain like this with his beloved late wife--unless that was why he trolled for lovers in the _Rukongai._ Had he pushed her up against the wall, tied her up… bruised her?

No. No way.

It was clear that Byakuya loved that woman more than anything. He’d cherished her, like a precious, fragile flower.

Maybe that was the problem, Renji thought. His fingers lightly stroked narrow, pale cheekbone. Perhaps Byakuya shunned softness in their bed because it was, in fact, too much like love—something he’d already given away, lost.

But, then, where did that leave him? Was this the best that Renji could hope for? Would all he ever get from Byakuya was fierce, intense fucking and then… all that get-out-of-bed shit and awful, awkward mornings-after?

More importantly, could he live with that? Was he as strong as Yumichika to just accept it, even if it broke his heart? Though Renji wondered, was it strength--really? Or was it a lack of self-respect? To let a man have what he wanted-- taking everything and never asking for even a tiny bit in return?

Renji kissed Byakuya’s eyelid again, a little more urgently. Though his voice trembled and it took more courage than almost anything he’d done in his life, he asked, “What if I told you I love you?”

He could feel Byakuya’s sudden tension, the way his body went instantly rigid. Silence stretched far too long, and when Byakuya finally spoke his voice was clipped and cold. “Why would you do such a foolish thing?”

Renji’s chest tightened. For a second, he couldn’t breathe.

It was like he was cut, stabbed somewhere deep inside. However, instead of blood, what threatened to leak from this wound were tears.

He pushed them away, with a cough and a shake of his head. Pulling from their tangle of flesh and feelings, Renji said, “Who said I would? I was just asking. Anyway, the answer is clear enough.”

Of course, Byakuya said nothing. Not a damn word.

Despite knowing better, Renji still waited, hesitating—hanging for a hopeful moment that Byakuya might break, might admit to… something, anything. But he just laid there on the floor, his back pressed into the wall, as still as stone, his arms where they fell when Renji left them, barely breathing, and his face empty of any expression.

“Yeah, okay,” Renji said gruffly, working overtime not to show how much he was really hurt. “I’m going for a walk. You should take a bath, Taicho. You look like shit.”


End file.
